


Gummies

by glamourtentia



Series: Overwatch Drabbles [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamourtentia/pseuds/glamourtentia
Summary: Scowling, McCree dropped the fork and picked the grape up with his fingers instead. It still had a little bit of stem sticking out the top, and his mind helpfully made the connection to a certain archer’s dumb ponytail.“I’m Hanzo,” McCree muttered, bobbing the grape up and down as though it were speaking, “and I have the best aim in all of Overwatch. Screw you, McCree.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NinjaDragonWhat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaDragonWhat/gifts).



> requested by [hana-dva-s0ng](http://hana-dva-s0ng.tumblr.com) with the prompt: “H-how long have you been standing there?” ([original post](http://sodawife.tumblr.com/post/150983371998/mchanzo-with-6-for-the-drabble-thing-w-have-i))
> 
> rated T because i say ass and tit? idk

McCree frowned down at his mostly-empty plate moodily. He’d hoped a snack would help him feel better after a frustrating evening of shooting practice, but he’d been wrong. He stabbed at the last grape on his plate, but it evaded his fork time and time again.

Scowling, McCree dropped the fork and picked the grape up with his fingers instead. It still had a little bit of stem sticking out the top, and his mind helpfully made the connection to a certain archer’s dumb ponytail.

“I’m Hanzo,” McCree muttered, bobbing the grape up and down as though it were speaking, “and I have the best aim in all of Overwatch. Screw you, McCree.”

Of course, Hanzo hadn’t actually said that to him. In fact, he’d said hardly anything to McCree since joining Overwatch. But he’d been at the practice range at the same time as McCree just a bit ago. McCree had tried not to watch him, but it was hard not to with the way the archer -– in his stupid barely-counts-as-a-shirt shirt -– took aim with calculated grace, wordlessly hitting a bullseye on target after target.

It was distracting, was what it was. Not only that; it was downright indecent. McCree’d been able to stay relatively focused at first, but eventually he’d started missing his own shots in his distraction. Hanzo hadn’t said anything, about McCree’s aim or otherwise, but McCree was sure he’d noticed. It wasn’t long before he’d left in an embarrassed huff.

McCree narrowed his eyes at Grape Hanzo and said, in his best Hanzo impersonation, “I think I’m so wonderful because I use a fancy-ass bow instead of a lousy old gun. How primitive. Watch me shoot with my tit out and my silky beautiful hair blowing in the breeze.”

With his other hand McCree picked up half a chip. “Well, boy howdy, Hanzo,” he said in an exaggeration of his own accent. “I sure wish -– ”

A delicate cough from behind McCree startled him, and he whirled around quickly. Hanzo was leaning against the doorway, his expression unreadable.

Flushing profusely, McCree dropped Grape Hanzo and Chip McCree back onto his plate. “Uh, hey, Shimada-san.”

Hanzo nodded at him. “McCree.”

McCree considered bolting right then, but steeled himself. He was tougher than that. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “H-how long you been standin’ there?”

Hanzo shrugged, still expressionless. “Not long.” He moved into the kitchen and opened a cupboard, his back to McCree as he rummaged through the wild assortment of food kept by various members of Overwatch.

“You performed well today,” Hanzo said, his back still to McCree.

McCree scowled, unsure whether Hanzo was screwing with him, but decided he seemed sincere enough. “Thanks. You too,” he said grudgingly.

Finally Hanzo shut the cupboard and turned to leave, and McCree relaxed a little now that he could go back to stewing in peace. Hanzo passed behind him, and McCree was surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder and a heat against his back.

Hanzo leaned over McCree’s shoulder from behind, reaching to pluck Grape Hanzo from the plate. “I would not be a grape,” Hanzo murmured, scrutinizing the offending fruit before popping it in his mouth.

McCree held his breath. So Hanzo _had_  heard his impromptu food performance. He wanted to sink into the floor. But Hanzo’s hand remained on his shoulder, holding him in place.

After a moment Hanzo’s other hand reached over to McCree’s plate again. “I would prefer to be represented with something more like this.” He opened his palm and dropped a sour gummy worm onto the plate. “And this should be you.” A large gummy bear followed.

McCree stared down at the additions to his plate, at a loss for what to say. Suddenly the hand was gone from his shoulder and his back was cold. He turned around to see Hanzo walking out of the kitchen.

Once he was gone, McCree removed his hat and let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be.”


End file.
